


Fuck You

by cryme_anocean



Series: We'll Figure it Out [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Verse, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2037579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryme_anocean/pseuds/cryme_anocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is on his back in the living room, legs spread and arms above his head as he sits up and then back down. Sit ups. That's all it is. He's doing sit ups. That's fucking it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Отъебись](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782098) by [Ahe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahe/pseuds/Ahe)



> Oh wow. I was gone a long time. Thankfully, I'll be back to that normal updating schedule. This was not a prompt. This was something that my muse prompted me with. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS, KUDOS, BOOKMARKS, SUBSCRIPTIONS, AND READING!!

The apartment wasn't anything special. Okay, it was a piece of shit, but it was better than they'd expected. It was nice enough that, thankfully, no work needed to be done on it. The appliances were recently updated and the water pressure was better than the Gallaghers'. It stayed cool during the summer and warm during the winter. That's really all they needed.

 

This? This is definitely not needed. No. He doesn't like this.

 

Mickey is on his back in the living room, legs spread and arms above his head as he sits up and then back down. Sit ups. That's all it is. He's doing sit ups. That's fucking it.

 

But he's in that submissive pose. If he were to tilt his head just a little more to the side, he'd practically be presenting.

 

He's just gotten back from work. He's sweaty and his face is flushed and it's cold outside, but in here it's warm. He wasn't breathing heavily before. He is now.

 

Mickey sits up again and Ian watches as his muscles strain against his skin. He remembers when Mickey wouldn't walk shirtless around him. He watches the way his pale skin glistens and shines with sweat.

 

It shouldn't be hot. He's fucking working out. He's fucking sweating. He's gross. Ian's so attracted to him, though. And he's off the pill, now. The suppressants are gone and with his sweat comes the strong smell of _Mickey_.

 

His legs are spread and Ian wants him to be naked. Wants to see his flaccid dick between his legs and wants to see it move with every sit up Mickey does.

 

His arms are above his head and the alpha inside rears his head. It wants him to pin Mickey down and take him, take him now.

 

Mickey's neck, though. Mickey's fucking neck. It shouldn't be so enticing. It shouldn't be. It is. And Mickey notices him now. He must've heard him because his head is moving. Fuck. He's exposing more of his neck, more of that expanse of _unmarked_  skin.

 

"The fuck you lookin at, Firecrotch?" But all Ian sees and hears and smells is Mickey's unmarked neck. It's distracting and bared right at him.

 

He slips his shoes off, shrugs off his coat, and heads for Mickey. He slides down at his legs and places his hands on his feet. He doesn't say anything. He just watches as Mickey sits up again and then back down. This goes on for a few seconds, up and down and up and down, when Mickey breaks the silence. "You high or somethin? Stop staring at me like I'm dinner. Which I fuckin made, by the way."

 

Oh. "Did you?"

 

"Don't get excited, Gallagher, it's just fried chicken."

 

"Right then."

 

"What's your issue?"

 

"Your little… display there."

 

"My what?"

 

"The way you were laying on your back like that."

 

Mickey's silent and Ian's a little afraid he'll have to explain how submissive the pose was. "You're fucking kidding. I was working out. Relax."

 

"I am relaxed."

 

"No, you wanna mount and breed me."

 

"That, too."

 

Mickey huffs and sits up. He pushes away, standing, and heads to the kitchen. "You hungry?"

 

"Very."

-

What the actual fuck? He glances down at Mickey, double checking that, yes, he is exposing his neck. In the middle of the grocery store.

 

They're out buying food—pancake batter, eggs, milk, coffee beans, cereal, potato chips, Mac n Cheese, ground beef, and chicken fingers—and Ian, not knowing what kind Mickey would want, asked him to pick out a cereal. Mickey moved to stand in front of him and, that fucking shit, tilted his head like he's thinking. Mickey doesn't think that way.

 

He crowds him. Pressing his chest into his back, he fingers along the expanse of Mickey's pale skin. He wants to drop his head and brush his teeth against it. They're in public and Ian knows this is pushing it with him. "What are you doing?" He asks. He watches as Mickey straightens his neck out and he pulls away.

 

"The fuck you talkin about?"

 

"Presenting right here in the store."

 

"I'm not presenting anywhere, you fuckin idiot."

 

"What the hell was that, then?"

 

"Fucking popping my neck, what'd you think?"

-

He's in the middle of taking a shower when Mickey climbs in with him. He takes the soap from his hands. Ian waits as Mickey runs it along his skin, paying extra attention to his dick. They don't usually do this. Not like this, anyway.

 

It's always after a quickie that Mickey will drag him into the shower and demand that he fucks him again. He will. He does. And then they get out, just rinsing the cum off before going back to whatever they were doing before.

 

They don't do this. Mickey doesn't do this. Mickey doesn't wash him gently, doesn't do _anything_  gently. Mickey doesn't keep his eyes down and bare his neck submissively.

 

He brings a hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers digging in the exact spot he'd bite when they bond. "You okay?"

 

"'Course." He mumbles and puts the soap back.

 

"You want me to do you?"

 

"No, I'm okay."

 

"… okay."

-

He pulls the chicken fingers out of the freezer and sets them on the counter. He then grabs a baking sheet and sets it on the stove. He goes to grab the box of chicken fingers when Mickey comes sprinting into the kitchen. "No, let me." He insists.

 

Ian's eyebrows raise and he steps back, watching as Mickey sandwiches himself between Ian and the counter. He tears the box open and begins to lay out the fingers on the sheet. "Get the fuck out of the kitchen, Firecrotch." He nudges him with his ass and Ian's eyebrows raise higher. He doesn't protest.

-

It's like this for a week before Ian addresses it. Mickey interrupting him when he goes to fold the laundry, baring his neck when Ian wraps his arms around him while he washes the dishes, presenting when they're out in public.

 

"The fuck are you doing?" Mickey demands as Ian drags him into the living room.

 

"The fuck are _you_  doing?" He retaliates and sits next to him. He angles himself so he can see Mickey.

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"You know what. You've been acting especially… omega lately."

 

"I am a fucking omega and you asked me to get off my suppressants so I wonder whose fault that is."

 

"Fuck you that's not what I mean. Maybe submissive is better."

 

"I'm not acting submissive."

 

"Yeah you are. You cook, you clean, you present. What would you describe that as?"

 

"Me fuckin getting ready for the bond, that's what I'd call it."

 

Oh. That's right. Mickey's body probably is getting ready for the bond. "Oh."

 

"Yeah, fucking oh."

 

"I didn't know. You could've told me."

 

"You should've known. Did you not pay attention in school or something?"

 

"Look who's talking! You're still a freshman, fucking asshole."

 

"Fuck you, Ian." But he doesn't look mad. Ian smiles to himself and extends his arm along the back of the couch. Mickey leans into his side. "Fuck you." He repeats, "Fuck you."

**Author's Note:**

> Let's get married. No? Can we still be friends? No? Why not? Oh of course. BECAUSE YOU AREN'T FOLLOWING ME ON TUMBLR. Let's fix that. I'm [guessiliedinthehook](http://guessiliedinthehook.tumblr.com//) now can we get married?


End file.
